Hetamo
by Tobikookie
Summary: Ivan is an average Highschool student who has been having odd reoccuring dreams, of a boy with mechanical hands. He fears his sanity has taken a turn for the worse, when said boy, shows up at him house. But, he quickly lears he is not he only one, and there may be more to this boy then it seems.


_ It was dark. But, not the kind of darkness one should fear, but the exact opposite. This was the darkness what held with it, a promise of light, of hope. And that is why this dream was not a nightmare for young Ivan. _

_ It was also, a strange dream. A reoccurring one. He stood there in darkness, or blackness and waited, no sound, no movement, he waited. Then, right on schedule, it happened._

_ The brilliant swirl of purple petals came from the left, swirling in invisible wind, or well… Ivan didn't feel it. IT was accompanied by that smell, that wonderful smell of flowers. And in an awe inspiring twist of white fabric he appeared._

_ Ivan didn't know who he was, he had never seen the boy in his life, other than in this dream. But he was simply beautiful. He had long, black hair that looked like silk, it seemed to shine in some invisible light. It was tied back in a graceful ponytail, held in place by an odd device. It was golden, and long, transparent and stiff looking…. Thing hung beside it. There was simply no other word for it._

_ His figure, slender, but sturdy. And his clothing was glorious and fine, colored white shirt with a golden crest. The shirt was sleeveless and he wore long very puffy pants, black with red on the bottom, covering his feet. A style of dress only seen in history books by Ivan. No one in modern day dressed like this…_

_The only thing that made it seem that this boy was something other than human were the large… machines, by the looks of them in place of his hands. Oversized, and bulky looking. They had long, menacing fingers that almost reached the ground. But the way he maneuvered them, operated them, with such grace. Even they were beautiful._

_These oversized machines were obviously decorated with great care, they were also white, covered in red painted designs, those of cranes, and pandas. Ivan had also seen designs similar in a history textbook, when learning about ancient Chinese history._

_In a single fluid movement the boy spun, facing Ivan, searching him with those golden eyes, and he smiled. The boy opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a loud, annoying._

_Buzz._

Ivan bolted awake, panting slightly, the buzz of his alarm clock still going, in it's annoying way. He took a moment to collect his self, how many times had he had that same dream in the last month? Five times now? HE was beginning to question his own sanity.

Although, he was forced to push those thoughts out of his mind as he reached over and slammed the snooze button on his alarm before climbing out of his bed and stretching. An average day, he would go to school, and then come home. No plans in-between, he was a rather lonely boy.

Not that he hadn't tried to make friends it's just… people skills don't naturally come to him I guess is what you could say.

Anyway, he pulled on his uniform and grabbed his coat. In the middle of February snow still lay on the ground. He topped off his clothing with the long scarf, he never left his house, no, he never left his room without it.

Ivan then exited his room and headed down the stairs to find his Older sister, Katyusha, a high school graduate putting eggs on the table, and his younger sister, Natalya, sitting at the table giving him a glare. Saying 'Sit next to me, and only next to me' This made Ivan shiver.

"I have meeting with teacher before school, I have breakfast on the go, da?" he asked quickly, making up an excuse to get out of the same room as his younger sister. And before an answer was given, he grabbed the loaf of bread off the counter and was out the door in the cold.

He didn't mind the cold, what he minded was his hurried food choice. An entire loaf of bread and nothing to go with it. He sighed, white fog escaping his mouth and he started to walk.

School wasn't far away, and once he was there he sat on a rock picking at the loaf of bread. That dream kept nagging at the back of his mind, something kept telling him he should know that boy, but he simply didn't. He once again questioned his sanity.

School started, and proceeded as normal, Ivan sat in the back, and usually others sat at least a desk away from him in any direction. Teachers droned on, work was completed, generally a very uneventful day.

* * *

Lunch rolled around, and Ivan was pulling out his packed lunch of soggy pirozki, Alfred, the school's jackass approached.

"Hey, commie" he started in that obnoxious, over cocky and arrogant American voice of his. He had meant to aim a blow at Ivan's Russian Nationality, and it worked.

"Leave" Was all the other said in response.

"The communist is sitting all alone because no one loves him enough to be by his side! Your too big, awkward and dangerous" Alfred continued, getting laughs of approval from his friends back at their own table.

Ivan clenched his fists digging his fingernails into his palm, oh, how badly he wanted to punch him, to smash his little, annoying face into oblivion. But he couldn't. Ivan had lost control of his anger before, and taken it out on those picking on him. Resulting in a suspension, on several occasions.

He was at the point where he was on'probation' so to speak. If he put even a fingernail over the fine line, his butt would be kicked out of school, and sent off to a private school for 'troubled' individuals.

It took every ounce of his strength and will power. But after clenching his fists to the point of feeling warm sticky blood flow from his palms, the American walked away, back to his laughing friends.

The end of the school day was always the worst for the lonely boy, watching friends reunite for the walk home was… hard. He would stand by the flag pole and watch them every day. Wondering what it would be like if the exclusive Clichés would wander over and offer him a ride home.

But those were simply fantasies, no more real than the boy in his dream, then the people in any of his dreams really. He was alone, and Ivan had learned to accept that fact.

The schoolyard slowly emptied out, leaving only a few lingering freshman awaiting their ride home. Ivan sighed again, and started his walk home. His hands shoved deep in his pockets, he kept his head low as a strong headwind blew his way.

This is when something unusual happened.

A car, a sports car, sped by, slapping him in the face with an up kick of snow. He cursed in Russian and glared after the sports car. It was heading on, in the same direction he was traveling, in the direction of his home.

He shook his head, he could not let his imagination get ahead of him. Many people lived in that neighborhood… although… none of them well off enough to afford a sports car… perhaps they were visiting a friend… but then why be in such a hurry.

Ivan rubbed the excess snow from his face, it couldn't hurt to get home, that's where he spent his time anyway, why would one sports car make a difference, and soon the thought was pushed to the back of his mind and forgotten.

* * *

It was nearing four in the afternoon as his home came into view, Katyusha would be at her job, and Natalya usually didn't return home until dinner, so Ivan had a good two to three hours to himself.

HE fumbled with his house key, his gloved hands proving to make the simple task more difficult for him. Finally the key slid into the door, and something caught in the corner of Ivan's eye… something… in a pile snow pushed from the path… it… it… shimmered, like… metal, white metal.

The breath caught in his throat and he turned his attention back to the task at hand and unlocked the door with a soft 'click' and pushed the door open.

"It's nothing Ivan… you're seeing things.. that's all, da?" he reassured himself and set his bag down, closed the door and headed to the kitchen for a snack. HE didn't know why he was so paranoid over the metallic sheen in the snow, all he knew is that he was.

He pulled a bottle of vodka from the fridge, even though he was only sixteen, not legal to drink in this forsaken place. It was a part of his culture that he was not able to drop. And as long as he was not caught, who would care anyway.

He headed back for the living room to see what was on the television, he passed the front door… wait… didn't he close that?

Now, it was ajar, slightly, metallic white fingers gripped the wood, and Ivan froze in his tracks. There was that smell, the one from his dream.

It seemed to happen in slow motion the door creaked open, being push by…by.. this thing. The door then flung open, but not violently, gently. And someone stood there silhouetted by the light of the afternoon sun, It took Ivan's eyes a long moment to adjust.

And when they finally adjusted, allowing him to see the figure in his door way, the neck of the bottle slipped from his grip lightened by his concentration on the figure, and shattered on the floor.

It was the boy. The one from his dreams, exactly as he had seen and remembered him. He stood there, mechanical hand on the door, holding it in place, Ivan was sure he was not short of a ride to the Looney bin.

Then the…. Boy spoke.

_"Ni hao, Master Yiwan"_


End file.
